Sorry Kiddo, But It's My Job
by Owl-Named-Toast
Summary: Dean Winchester was aggravated and not in the mood for his pain-in-the-neck little brother. wee!chester, sick!sam, gulity!dean, non-weecest


**Sorry Kiddo, But It's My Job**

By kimberly_zee (a.k.a Owl-Named-Toast)

A/N: A long summer of torment until season six :( This will be my second fanfic. I seem to be really hooked to wee!chester fics.

Dean Winchester was aggravated.

Dean sat exhausted in front of the television. Dad had been gone for two weeks now. He called last night and said he'd be gone for at least 2-3 more. Dean had decided to pick up an after school job. Dad had only left them so much money. Dean was already getting sick from eating leftovers for the 5th night in a row. So, thank god _Hank's Auto Garage_ was hiring. Dean was just barley 16 but Hank saw that he was pretty handy with a wrench.

Between school: 8:30-3:00; then work: 3:30-8:00, Dean was cranked out. Dean had to walk home since Dad had the Impala. This really didn't bother Dean. No, not the pointless, soul-sucking high school he attending or the torn up engines he worked on all afternoon. No, what aggravated him-

"Hey, Dean, could you turn up the TV a little more – I can still hear out of my LEFT ear!"

-Was his pain-in-the-ass 12-year-old brother, Sam.

Dean came home to what seemed to be a tired and annoyed Sam. Now, normally, Dean and Sam get along. But Sam way starting to enter those angsty teenage years. Dean could see it coming. But Sam seemed bitchier that usual tonight. But honestly, after this long day, Dean was not in to mood for "Bitch Sam" right now.

"Yeah, sure Sammy. No PROBLEM!"

The volume max out for a good 30 seconds before Sam stormed over a pull the plug on the TV. Something in him flipped. He was red-in-the-face mad.

"WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROMBLEM, DEAN. THE TV IS TOO FREAKIN' LOUD. SOME OF US WHO AREN'T COMPLETE IDIOTS ARE TRYING TO DO THEIR HOMEWORK!"

That was the last straw. Dean was tired, aggravated and now Sam was insulting him and being a little shit. He took on this after school job for HIM, for both of them. And here he was basically telling him to pound sand. Dean was not going to take it.

"Oh, really, Sam – could an idiot do this?"

He whisks Sam up and throws him over his shoulder. Sam fights back but Dean is still big enough to have he upper hand. He walks past their dinky little laundry room and grabs two belts and a balled-up sock. Makes it up stairs to their shared room and awkwardly throws Sam on to the floor.

Sam continues to kick. He even gets in one punch. Dean takes the two belts, bounds Sam's hands and feet, then takes the sock and gags him.

"Ah…you hear that, Sammy. …That's right! The BEAUTIFUL sound of you not talking"

Sam is not amused.

"Listen, Sam – I'm a little on edge here. School is hard enough without Mrs. Bitch-Whateverhernameis beating on me to work on a long-term paper that I don't even think we're gonna be here long enough for me to worry about the due date. Then on top of all that, I have a job. A job that is RIGHT AFTER SCHOOL! I'M SCRAPING AROUND FOR 5 ½ HOURS SO THAT YOU AND ME CAN SURVIVE UNTIL DAD GETS BACK! Your bitching right now is NOT helping with the headache I came home with! So until I can see straight again, you can chill out in here."

Sam made what seemed to be a disgruntled groan.

"And just to show you that I'm not that much of a bastard, Sam, I'll let you chill out on your bed."

Dean tosses Sam on his bed. Sam tries saying through the sock what seems to be "asshole" but it came out as "rssrole".

Dean goes back to the living room and flips through the channels until he has not choice but to watch _Wheel of Fortune. _He dozes off for about 30 minutes until he hears an obnoxious jiggle to some car dealership commercial.

_Guess it's time get Sammy…._

Dean trudged back up to their shared room. Sam was right where he left him. He looked less angry but he was still red-in-the-face. He moves to the bed and hovers over Sam.

"Alright, Sam, I know you're still pissed. -" He begins to untie him "-I'll admit tying you up was drastic, but you were being a little-"

Before Dean could finish his sentence, the belts come completely off and Sam grabs Dean into a fierce hug, burying his face in Dean chest.

_Okaaaaay…_, Dean thought, _this is out of character…._

A muffled sniff is hidden into Dean chest.

_Sammy…_

"M'sorry, Dean…..you're right…..I was…selfish.."

Dean was getting worried. Sam's normal reaction to being tied up was an attempt to punch his big brother in the face, not hug, apologize and….cry. Something must be wrong. He pulls Sam away from his death grip hug and looks him in the face.

"Hey, Sammy…I-"

Dean, once again, was at a loss for words. Sam face was still red. His eyes were damp and unfocused. Dean placed his hand on Sam forehead. He felt like he was on fire. Dean rolls off the bed to his duffel to find the thermometer he kept with the first aid.

"Well, Sammy, I can see why now you're having these PMS mood swings. I might have them too if I had a fever of 102"

"I'm still sorry, Dean. I was really being a jerk. It really blows that you have to work an after school job just so we can eat."

Dean smiled, "I know, Sammy. We're both a little on edge". Dean's smile fell when he saw the red marks around Sam's wrists left from the belts. "Sammy….m'sorry, pal…sorry for being rough on you like that". He picked up Sam's left wrist and rubbed the red around the edges.

"Does it hurt, Sam?"

"Nah….just a bit sore. It's really my fault. I was strugglin' a little too much. I got too tired and stopped, though."

Dean gulped. He hadn't felt this guilty in a long time. _I should of seen the sighs…the exhaustion, the redness in his face, mood swings…._

Sam inhaled a shuttered breath. He looked so worn out. Dean went back to his duffle to pull out some aspirin and a bottle of water. _Two pills should be enough for now. _

Dean went back over to pull off Sam's jeans and get him under the covers. "Here, Sammy, swallow these." Sam reluctantly lifted up his head to take the aspirin. His head fell fast back to the pillow. The sweat on his forehead was making his bangs damp.

Dean places a water bottle and a walky talky next to the Sam's bed. "Alright Sammy – now I'm gonna be down stairs. If you need anything here's the walky talky. You know how it works: push the button, talk. If you can't - bark, moan, make some noise. I'll be here. Get some sleep."

"But Dean, I still have homework to finish"

"No you don't." Dean grins, "Cause you ain't going to school tomorrow. And since Dad's not home to watch you, I ain't going to school either."

Sam looked at Dean with his eyes half open. "You don't have to do all this, Dean."

Dean looks at Sam for a moment and grins again, "Sorry kiddo, but it's my job".

END


End file.
